


Pride

by NanakiBH



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Ending, Banter, Difficult Decisions, Fluff and Angst, Incest, Injury Recovery, M/M, Post-Change of Heart!Shido, Retrospective, Spoilers, Unconventional Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 18:47:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12538740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NanakiBH/pseuds/NanakiBH
Summary: There's no night that lasts forever.





	Pride

**Author's Note:**

> ((Spoilers))
> 
> This takes place after everything. Probably the happiest ending these two could ever have together. Why did I write this...? Maybe because the last one I wrote drained my soul. This one's still a little fucked up, but it's a soft fucked up. I imagine this is what it would be like for Akechi if he had time to just mellow out without the worst of his problems bombarding him anymore. It's very similar to Life Sentence in some ways, but way less suspenseful.
> 
> Back to something fucked up next time. Really trying to cover the whole spectrum here.

He was getting used to the sight of Shido's bedroom ceiling.

That wasn't something normal, he figured; getting used to laying in his father's bed, staring at his father's ceiling, watching his TV, eating his food, feeling so... At home.

There wasn't anything for him to do besides lay there and recover. The wounds he sustained in Shido's Palace were almost completely healed; just a stinging vestige of what they used to be. Once he was fully healed, he didn't know what he was going to do with himself, though. His wounds may have been healing, but it felt like there was still something else. There was a sense of emptiness that went much deeper than anything physical.

Once, he thought he could solve his problems by killing Shido. For a long, long time, having no alternatives, he convinced himself that it was the only way. After everything was said and done, he realized that killing him would have never made him feel fulfilled.

So he just laid there, without a purpose.

He didn't know if he'd ever be able to step outside again, afraid to show his face in public when he was disgraced. It was laughable, but it somehow felt appropriate that Shido was the one who sheltered him after he was injured. He'd been exposed as a fraud, so there was no job for him to return to. No talk shows would want to speak to him unless he was willing to talk about how he'd lied to them. They were actually very interested in that story, but Akechi had no interest in publicly humiliating himself.

Unable to return to his former life, he did as he always had.

He used himself to defend Shido.

He was as honest in his testimony as he could be without mentioning the Metaverse. Although he personally felt like he deserved punishment for helping Shido to begin with, he couldn't confess to any of his own crimes without also implicating Shido. The court wouldn't have accepted their word about the Metaverse anyway, so...

They ended up paying for the least of their crimes, but testifying for him seemed like the right thing to do when the Shido who approached him felt nothing like the man he'd known. The terrible severity of the gaze Akechi remembered had disappeared. It was the thing he remembered most clearly about Shido; those eyes that regarded him with contempt. As with a broad brush, the old Shido had been painted over and replaced with someone almost unrecognizable.

Akechi wanted him to pay.

But he also wanted that person for himself.

It was funny how easily the public was willing to welcome Shido back into their arms despite everything he'd been accused of. After his public confession and the sincere remorse he showed, they thought he was honest – and he was, finally. Akechi wanted to yell at the people on TV to remind them of who they were praising, but it was strange how easily he found himself nodding along with them.

Becoming prime minister may have become out of the question, but Shido was still accepted as a politician. Akechi just couldn't bring himself to feel aggravated by that development. Shido, despite everything, was a capable man who knew what he was doing within the government – but he was finally doing things the honorable, just way. His corrupt donors and other allies, seeing the sudden shift in his politics, began withdrawing their support, but some of his other connections who had been intimidated by him in the past became more willing to work with the more cooperative and generous Shido.

Shido was powerful and intelligent. That man, reformed, was worth more to the public retaining his seat of power than behind bars.

While bedridden, Akechi didn't have much to do except stare at the ceiling and watch TV...

He got kind of excited whenever Shido was on.

The voice he spoke with sounded like the phony righteous tone he'd deceived with in the past, but it wasn't the same. As someone who'd also been used to lying and lying, Akechi recognized what honesty sounded like.

It was kind of frustrating...

So easily, that terrible Shido had been changed. It was child's play for the Phantom Thieves.

That was the part Akechi hated. He'd really wanted to be the one... But he just couldn't stay mad at them. If it were ever possible for him to see them again, then he believed some thanks were in order. He didn't think that he or Shido deserved to be freed of blame for the things they'd done, but he hoped that they could see him differently. After all, if it were possible for Shido, who had been dyed completely in darkness, to show a new light, then it gave Akechi hope that he'd be able to change his terrible self, too.

He didn't expect their forgiveness. He didn't even expect them to like him. Akechi didn't like himself, either.

They had every reason to hate him. When he joined them for that brief period, he'd been nothing but insincere. Had things gone a little differently, he may have even killed them. Since he hadn't felt anything for them, it would've been really easy for him to do. At that point, they hadn't given him anything to thank them for.

Friendship? Kindness?

Although he wanted those things, they seemed worthless to him then. None of that would have healed the pain that had persistently followed him since he was small. That was what they couldn't understand – he wasn't like them. The power of friendship wasn't enough to heal a person like him.

He thought that killing Shido would fix him...

He just wanted to be with him. That was all. Until they gave Shido back to him, they would have never been able to reach his heart.

As Akechi laid there blankly staring at the ceiling, feeling like he had all the time in the world, he slowly came to terms with that fact. It was still hard to accept and made him feel extremely pathetic and stupid, but he was getting over it. When he looked back, finally admitting to himself why he did everything he did, he felt like such a child.

It was humiliating, but it only got worse when he thought about how Shido must have felt...

Finding out that Shido had always suspected that he was his son made Akechi want to die. Not only had he been knowingly fucking his father with the assumption that Shido didn't know and wouldn't know until moments before his murder... Shido had known all along and must have thought he looked like a sad little boy with daddy issues.

Which he was, admittedly.

But only he was allowed to think of himself that way. He didn't want Shido to look down on him.

He wanted to be his equal...

That had to be something Freudian, Akechi knew. It was hard not to analyze those feelings when he had nothing better to do. He'd wanted to ascend from the position of lonely son. That feeling was what caused him to internally battle against Shido for so long. Once that conflict was finally over, he was able to submit to him as his son.

He didn't know if he was ready for that, though.

He still wanted to be more to him than that. He knew those feelings made him strange, but he didn't want to let go of them. It wasn't just his father's acknowledgment he was after.

So annoying...

If, after all of that, Shido only saw him as his son...

Akechi knew he couldn't be happy with that. As much as he wanted a father, the irritating emptiness inside of him required more than that to be satisfied.

Well... The fact that he was laying in his bed was probably a good sign. But Shido had been sleeping in the living room. Akechi thought his sudden deference was annoying. What was Shido going to do once he was recovered? He couldn't sleep on the couch forever.

Unless he expected him to leave...

Akechi really didn't like that thought.

If he kept thinking about it, he was just going to get depressed, and he didn't want to waste time feeling depressed if it turned out to be for nothing. There was going to be no telling what Shido thought of him unless he talked to him – but talking to him sounded kind of... difficult. He wasn't used to expressing his feelings openly. Being honest was a lot harder than it sounded. Shido got out the easy way because of his change of heart, but Akechi still felt like he was stuck under some invisible force that wouldn't let his heart to speak the truth.

It probably served him right. That feeling of unfulfillment was what he deserved. In that regard, he didn't mind suffering with it for a little longer.

 

It was about time to get up. The digital alarm clock at the bedside said it was already after noon.

Shido never expected him to get up or contribute or anything. He seemed to be shouldering a massive feeling of guilt that sealed his lips with its weight. Whenever he was around the apartment, he looked at him with pitiful eyes, like he was always silently trying to apologize. Akechi forgave him as many times as Shido wanted because he figure that it didn't matter – water under the bridge and all that. Seeing the videos from his hilarious live confession made it easy for him to let go of past grievances.

He'd always wanted to see him disgraced... But, seeing those videos, even knowing that his apologies had been forced out of him, Akechi just felt bad for him. He looked so sad; just a bare glimmer of the man who had inspired such passionate rage in him.

A part of him wanted Shido to be that person again just so he could feel that exhilarating rush of emotion, but...

He felt something else for him after his change of heart, and he liked that feeling more.

 

As if he could be happy...

 

Life had never been fair to him. It just seemed impossible to think that he and Shido could be exactly like what he wanted. His life had been screwed up from the beginning, and he made it even worse on his own, and it was like he wanted to continue making it worse by desiring something that was sure to bury him in shame for the rest of his life. That idyllic state of having Shido as both his father and lover would've never been allowed by the kind of world that brought him such unhappiness.

Akechi still felt tired and weak from his injuries, but he felt like he needed to leave. It probably would've been for the best if he quietly faded away to somewhere else and let the new Shido take care of things.

That would've been fine. Shido probably wouldn't have missed him anyway... It was just the change of heart suddenly making him act differently...

 

It took a bit of effort to pull himself into a sitting position. As he put his feet over the side of the bed, the bedroom door opened.

So much for leaving...

His thoughts must have distracted him from the sound of Shido opening the door. He stood there in the bedroom doorway with a somewhat surprised look on his face. It softened out as Akechi stared at him.

“It's good to see you awake,” he said.

“Yep. Still not dead,” Akechi said cheerfully, giving a laugh at his own choice of words. After the things he'd made it through, he felt cursed with invincibility. “You worried about me?”

Shido opened his mouth, but nothing came out, like he'd intended to speak without having any words prepared. It was strange to see him at a loss. He was normally so composed and ready. The way his gaze became distant made Akechi wonder what sort of thing he was thinking about.

He stayed where he was, standing still in the open doorway, a hand held contemplatively to his jaw. After a moment longer, he shook his head and put his hand down to his side, maintaining that oddly faraway look. “I won't pretend to know what it feels like to be a father, but I think I understand what it means now when people say that no parent should ever suffer the loss of their child.”

What exactly had he been thinking about while he was gone?

Akechi had seen the horrible look on Shido's face when he'd woken up in the hospital. He looked stricken with grief, like someone had died – like he'd been hit by the horror of realizing that he had almost inadvertently killed his own son. That terrifying feeling must have stuck with him.

But that wasn't who Shido was. Even with a change of heart, Akechi found it hard to believe that he would've regretted the loss of another person. Especially him, his worthless son.

He hadn't forgotten Shido's true feelings.

“Arrogant bastard. You'd rather die first and make me be the one who grieves. That's it, isn't it?”

That had to be it. Shido was self-centered like that.

His eyes widened slightly. “You'd miss me?”

“That's...” Akechi choked on his breath and his fingers unconsciously clutched the edge of the bed. He hadn't meant for it to come out sounding that way. “That's besides the point. You know what I'm saying. It's always been about you. I can't even count on you to say something nice. There's no way you'd be worried about someone like me.”

For some reason, Shido looked frustrated with him. “I was worried about you. I'm not heartless, you know. It may have seemed like it, once, but the fact that I had a heart that could be changed means that I had a heart to begin with, doesn't it?” He wasn't just frustrated. Shido was mad that he'd questioned the sincerity of his concern.

Akechi glanced aside.

He didn't know why it was so hard for him to accept that when Shido's concern was something he'd wanted all along. Maybe he still wanted to be stubborn. Maybe he wanted Shido to be mad at him. Maybe he wanted to make him worry a little more...

Shido took a few steps into the room and stood in front of the bed. Akechi could feel him looking at him, but he didn't want to meet his eyes.

“It's always a relief when I come back and find you awake. After abandoning you like I did, I know how selfish it must sound for me to say this now, but...”

Akechi clicked his tongue. “Don't act coy. It makes you look weak. Just say it.”

“I want to spent the rest of my life with you,” he said. Immediately after the words came out of his mouth, he groaned at himself. “That sounds stupidly sentimental, but it captures the gist of what I was thinking. All the years remaining in my life... I want to let you have them to make up for the time I denied you.”

 

That was what he'd been thinking about...?

 

Akechi didn't know what to say. He suddenly couldn't breathe.

 

He found it hard to believe anything Shido ever said, but he wanted to believe in those words so badly. Even if there inevitably came to be a day when Shido would disappear and he'd be left without him again – even if he had to suffer that sort of ironic pain...

 

“Dammit...” He really didn't want Shido to see him making an undignified face, so he put his face down in the pillow. “I hate you,” he muttered. “Just leave me alone, already.”

He didn't know how to react to the new Shido. In the past, if Shido said something that embarrassed him, he would've just laughed it off. It was strange, given how they used to be, but even they had moments where they were comfortable together. Back then, he wouldn't have let himself admit it, but he loved those moments. He loved it when he was able to speak to him honestly and tell him things he might have otherwise thought twice about.

Those moments suddenly seemed like every day.

It was overwhelming.

 

When he looked up, he found Shido dejectedly backing toward the door.

 

“Idiot... Don't go.”

 

Shido actually smiled.

He came back inside and took a seat on the bed by his side. Akechi sat up slowly, holding his shoulder.

“Let me be clear, Shido-san,” he said, trying to maintain his confidence as he looked him in the eyes. There was no use in beating around the bush. “I also want to be with you, but I want us to have an adult relationship.”

Elbows on his knees, stroking the hair on his chin between thumb and forefinger, Shido gave a thoughtful nod.

“I can't imagine making it anything else,” he said. “I think it would be incredibly irresponsible of me if I ignored the sorts of things we did together and tried to act like your father – not that I couldn't also be your father if that's what you want. I'm just willing to acknowledge that the feelings I have for you are more than what's normally appropriate for a parent.”

Wait.

“Are you saying you... actually have feelings for me?” Saying that out loud and hearing it with his own ears made it sound even more absurd. No matter how much he'd longed for Shido's attention, he never would have guessed that it was anything more than one-sided.

“Are you surprised?” Shido grinned wolfishly. “You're cute.”

“Did you always have feelings for me?”

He lifted his brows and shrugged. “I can't say for sure, but it's possible. It's hard for me to connect with my old thoughts. I really want to resent those Phantom Thieves for making me like this, but it's hard for me to hold a grudge when I think about what I've gained. It doesn't seem like an equal exchange on the surface, but...”

“Yeah,” Akechi said, chest swelling with a warm feeling like relief. “Yeah, that's how I feel, too.”

Careful of his shoulder, Akechi slowly rearranged himself, resting with his back against the headboard.

For a moment, a silence permeated the atmosphere. But it felt nice. It lacked the tension Akechi recalled from those times when he visited Shido's office, when he had to be patient and silently wait for his attention. Things really were different... Even if Shido was quiet, Akechi felt like he had his undivided attention. That was exactly how he wanted things to be.

It seemed like nothing, but it almost felt like too much. He still wasn't sure if the feeling circling his heart was regret or guilt for the actions he'd undertaken at Shido's orders or just a leftover of the inferiority complex instilled in him through his early years of neglect and mistreatment. While screaming desperately for his personal justice, there was also a part of him quietly rejecting all good that approached him.

Even that quiet moment. Even if it seemed like nothing on the surface...

Even though he'd rejected Shido the hardest...

 

Staring absently at the ceiling, Akechi quietly shared a thought he'd had for a while.

“I don't know why I clung to you like I did. I didn't have a reason. I didn't know you when I met you, and it's hard to say whether I ever really knew you during those two and a half years,” he said, just trying to make sense of it himself. “Normally, people don't say this about their own family, but it was like there was a thread of fate connecting us – like my mother took her end of it and bound me with it when I was born.”

Shido looked over his shoulder at him with a curious smile. “That's weird. Am I supposed to thank her...?”

Akechi laughed. “If she really did that, then I should blame her for making me endure you at your worst.” He let out a sigh, closing his eyes with a fond smile. “But I get it. Maybe she saw the good in you.”

He tried so hard to convince himself that there was no good in that Shido because he knew that he wouldn't have been able to draw it out of him. But he tried. Even if it was pointless. He tried, and he tried, and every time he failed to bring out his humanity, he cursed him and cursed himself for being so useless.

Every time he opened his eyes, he feared that he'd see his own ceiling, that the perfect Shido sitting next to him was just a dream.

Shido adopted that thoughtful, somewhat troubled look again. “I never understood what that woman was thinking. Then again, I didn't think about anyone but myself back then. Now that your feelings reached me, I get the feeling I really fucked that up... Whatever she and I had, I'm sure I didn't handle it with the delicacy it deserved, regardless of whether or not I wanted it to last.”

“Whatever. Doesn't matter at this point, does it?”

It felt pointless to think about what could have been. The fact was, they were there together, and he wanted Shido to only think about him.

“No. I think it matters. I never learned from my past mistakes, so a bit of retrospection won't kill me.”

 

Retrospection, huh...

 

“Before you got here, I was thinking about getting myself out of here,” Akechi said. He grinned. “The me from five minutes ago was an idiot.”

“Once you're well, you can go wherever you want. It might be difficult for us to go places together without being noticed, but I'm willing to do whatever you want – within reason. Have any special requests? Some things you'd like for us to do together that you weren't able to do when you were younger?”

Now _there_ was a thought.

Akechi hadn't given much thought to the future. It was still hard to imagine. He was always stuck in the past, thinking about all the things he'd been deprived of, but never in a thousand years would he have imagined himself being able to _have_ those things.

He tried to keep the childish excitement out of his voice as he thought about what they could do out loud.

“The beach...? No, but it's a little too early for that, still... Um... An amusement park? B-But that would feel more like a date now, wouldn't it?” Even though there had been so much he wanted, it sort of felt like the time for those things had passed. “I-I don't know. Maybe I'm too old now...”

Shido looked at him with those pitiful eyes.

His hand approached him, brushed aside his hair, and touched his cheek.

“You look tired still. Maybe you should lay down for a little longer. I can go out and get food for y-.”

The second he began to rise, Akechi shot out a hand to catch his wrist. “I told you not to leave, didn't I?”

Shido looked at the hand clutched around his wrist, then looked up at Akechi, looking somewhat confused and amused at the same time. “...What, do you want me to lay down here with you?”

If Shido already understood, then it would have just been mean to make him spell it out.

Akechi was grateful that Shido was a person who enjoyed his space. He couldn't see himself with someone who was clingy. But the part of him that had been starved for attention really wanted Shido to stay near him – even if it was just in concentrated spurts. He wanted to feel his father's arms around him.

After Akechi reluctantly released his wrist, Shido got up and removed his suit jacket, hanging it over the back of the chair near the window. As he returned to the bed, Akechi pointed to the other side.

“I can't lay on my left side. Someone shot me there, remember?”

Coming around to the other side then, Shido got on the bed and laid down next to him. The proximity was almost immediately too much to bear. Akechi wasn't used to sharing moments with him that could be considered intimate in an emotional sense. Whenever they occurred in the past, they were infrequent and came so unexpectedly, he treated them like a treasure.

Realizing that he could lay next to Shido whenever he wanted made his chest ache.

Shido watched him quietly. After a while, he lifted a hand and stroked Akechi's hair, gently running his hand over the back of his head, occasionally stroking his cheek. Feeling his face growing hot, force of habit made Akechi want to tell him to knock it off, but he sealed his lips and let himself enjoy the attention.

“You're different now, too.”

“Hm?” Akechi blinked and looked up at him.

“Your disposition has improved. You're more subdued now. There used to be this almost tangible aura of bloodlust about you.” He laughed softly to himself. It wasn't funny, but Akechi couldn't blame him for laughing. “When was the last time you thought about killing me?”

Akechi thought back.

He was surprised by how long it took him to remember.

“Been a while.” He tried giving him his best innocent face. “You haven't done anything lately that made me wanna tear your guts out.”

“So as long as I'm on my best behavior, I won't get eviscerated, huh?” Shido snorted. “I suppose that's fair.”

“Oh, look at that. You've developed an understanding of personal consequences. I'm impressed.”

“Only because I know you're serious. I admit, I was arrogant enough to never feel worried that you would go through with it, but I knew that you _could_. I was always aware that you were a hundred percent capable of stabbing me in the neck or shooting me in the face if I rubbed you the wrong way.”

His smile widening, Akechi teasingly traced a finger down Shido's chest. “Then it's amazing that you never got your brains splattered, seeing as how you rubbed me _all kinds of ways._ ”

Minding his bandaged shoulder, Shido flipped Akechi over onto his back and positioned himself over him. “I recall that being one of the things we could always agree on.”

Raising his arms, Akechi put his hands on the back of Shido's neck and pulled him down for a brief kiss. When he pulled away and looked up into his eyes, for a moment, he remember what it was like to be held by his cruel father. He never would have complained – he even welcomed his advances, anticipated his uninvited touches...

He finally realized how desperate he'd been – how irrelevant Shido's cruelty had been to his parched heart that thirsted for his father's affection.

 

Even with a change of heart, was it foolish of him to keep clinging to someone who'd treated him that way...?

 

There had to be exceptions. Their circumstances were extraordinary...

 

And Shido wasn't just someone.

 

“You can do whatever you want with me,” Akechi said, sliding a hand down Shido's shoulder. “You can be rough. You can take me whenever, wherever you want. You can make me beg for you. But, above all, I expect you to treat me nicely, okay? You have to be careful with your toys. You don't want me to break again, do you?”

Shido's expression darkened, immediately turning remorseful. No matter how lighthearted Akechi tried to make the past sound, it seemed that Shido was unable to avoid the regret that stabbed his heart at its mention.

Shido rolled back onto his side and looked at him. “You really have changed,” he said.

“You know what they say about boys with absent fathers... They all turn toward destructive lifestyles. But now that you're here trying to be a positive influence, my life is going to be back on track.” He punctuated each of his final words with a tap on Shido's nose.

“Your tone says you're joking, but that doesn't sound like a joke to me. Not to pat myself on the back for the half-assed job I've been doing, but I'd say you hit the nail on the head. You wanted someone to control you because you didn't know how to control yourself.”

“...It's rude to call me out like that, Shido-san.”

“I'm sorry. That was the part of you I used. I can't even say I didn't know better. I knew exactly what I was doing...”

He extended an arm, inviting Akechi to come nearer if that were what he wanted. It took but a moment for Akechi to accept, bringing himself close enough to fit in his embrace.

“I promise I'll be better. I'll take care of you now, Goro.”

Akechi closed his eyes and clutched his fingers in the back of his father's shirt.

The bittersweet feeling in his chest seemed to exist to close up the emptiness.

“Good.”


End file.
